


I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor

by bazypitchandsimonsnow (ChessPargeter)



Series: Cliche/Trope Requests [8]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Bad date, First Meetings, Grinding, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Simon is distracted by Baz, as usual, night club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22162954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChessPargeter/pseuds/bazypitchandsimonsnow
Summary: Simon is on a blind date, but there's this guy who keeps catching his attention.Based on "I'm going to save you from this bad date" request from krisrix and "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" by Arctic Monkeys.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Simon Snow & Agatha Wellbelove, Simon Snow/Agatha Wellbelove (sorta), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Cliche/Trope Requests [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1367719
Comments: 8
Kudos: 304





	I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I am back after a reluctant prolonged absence. My health has been in the shitter. Bad headaches, little sleep, and low energy all suck. This is M rated to be safe but there isn't really anything explicit, just implied sex and a lot of horniness lol. Hopefully you all like it :D

**Simon**

“This is a terrible idea,” I say again.

“It is not,” Penny replies, plucking lint off my shirt. “My friend says she’s really sweet and you two might get along.”

“And that matters because...?”

“Because you can’t stay cooped up at home. Time for you to go out and meet the world.” I blow air between my lips. “Don’t do your horse impression in front of her.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is setting me up on a blind date a way to vicariously fix your romantic life by fixing mine?”

“No, Mr. I Took One Psych Course.” I keep glaring at her. Penny’s shoulders fall slightly. “Okay, maybe. But I also think you two might be a good fit. So at least give it a shot, alright?”

I sigh heavily, shoving my hands in my pockets. “One drink.”

She grins brightly. “Awesome. I’ll be waiting back at the flat. Don’t stay too late.”

“I won’t. Bye, Pen.” 

“Bye, Si.” She presses a kiss to my cheek then walks off smiling. 

The second she’s out of sight, I slump forward with a groan. I don’t think she heard the resignation in my voice. Honestly, I really don’t want to do this. But I’m doing this for Penny, because she’s sad and I love her.

Ever since Micah broke up with her (arsehole), Penny has put the excess energy she used to waste on him into other things, including me. Guess if she can’t have a partner, she wants me to have one. Sure, I wouldn’t mind being with someone, it just hasn’t been a priority between uni and my mental health. Both are still not really great. I should be studying or something, but Pen says one night away won’t kill my GPA. She’s rarely ever wrong, hope she isn’t now. Hope this isn’t a total disaster...

I walk up to the nightclub door. It’s neon purple with a burly man at the entrance. I gulp down the lump in my throat. God, why am I so nervous? It’s just a date. This won’t kill me. I can do this. I won’t burst into flames no matter how much it feels like I will any fucking moment.

The burly man looks at me, the weirdo just standing six feet away from the door. “You going in or what, kid?”

I nod furiously. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

He holds out his hand. “Fifteen pounds, please.”

My eyes bug out. I expect him to start laughing, but he stays stone faced. “Fifteen bloody quid?! Are you kidding me?!”

“Nope. Pay up or leave.”

I growl and pull out my wallet. I slap the bills in his hand. “Fucking rip off.”

“I don’t make the rules, mate.” He puts the money in his back pocket and lifts the black velvet rope. “Welcome to Club Violet.”

“Thanks,” I grumble. Fifteen fucking quid. What am I, the Queen?

Club Violet absolutely lives up to its name. The whole place is different shades of glowing purple. It’s like if Queen Victoria opened a royal dance club. People shake and jump in a huge sweaty clump on the main dance floor while techno pop blares around us. It’s actually a pretty good song. Wish it wasn’t so loud though. There’s metal stairs with a chrome railing leading to the upper level. I check my texts again. Okay, so she’ll be at the upper bar, wearing a shiny pink dress. Cool, cool, I can find her.

I push through some giggling dancers and a couple snogging against the wall to get to the stairs. The top level is less crowded, mostly just people talking with their heads very close together. They’re smiling, giggling, kissing. They look happy. My heart aches a bit. Huh, I actually miss that, more than I thought than I did. This might not be such a bad idea.

The bar is nestled at the back of the floor. Bartenders in posh black shirts and vests shake those silver shakers I’ve seen in Bond movies. And at the front of the bar, stirring a margarita is a blonde woman in a bright pink, sparkly dress. Okay, deep breath, you can do this.

I walk towards her, head held high. I stand next to her. She has a pretty face and golden brown eyes. Let’s hope this goes well.

“Uh, hi,” I say with only a little nervous hitch. “Agatha, right?”

She turns her head. Her mouth pulls up slightly. Not a smile, but almost, I guess. “Yeah. And you’re Simon?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

We stand in awkward silence for awhile. My body and mouth feel utterly paralyzed with unsureness. She seems just as confused. Guess it’s been a very long time for both of us. I stumble forward onto a cushy violet stool.

“You wanna drink?” I ask.

Agatha holds up her barely empty margarita. “I think I’ll finish this one first, thank you.”

My cheeks heat up. I hope they’re not visible under the lowlight. “Uh, y-yeah, makes sense. I guess I’ll get one just for me then...” 

I wave at the bartender. They walk over with an extremely fake customer service smile. “How may I help you?”

“Can I get a...um...” I look at the drinks menu. It’s filled with weird punny names with liquors I don’t know. It makes my head hurt. I slap the menu down on the counter. “Pint of Guinness, please?”

“Sure, coming up,” they say and walk off. 

I turn to Agatha with a sheepish smile. “I like to keep things simple.”

“I can see that.” She takes a sip of her margarita. Her lipstick is a nice shade of soft pink. She has good taste in makeup at least.

“So, um, Pen mentioned you were in third year at University of London. What program are you doing?”

“Veterinary medicine at the royal college.”

“Oh wow, that’s cool. You wanna be a vet?”

She nods, swirling the drink in her hand. A small smile plays on her mouth for the first time. “Yeah. I hope to take care of horses.”

A small shiver runs down my spine. “Wow, um...sounds interesting.”

Her head tilts to the side in confusion. “Something wrong?”

“No, no. It sounds amazing. I just don’t have a good history with horses.” Her eyebrows pull together. “A police horse nearly trampled me when I was seven. Been a bit jittery around them ever since.”

Agatha nods thoughtfully. “Hm, I see. You probably did something to provoke the horse though, they don’t hurt people for no reason.”

My cheeks heat up, but from embarrassment unfortunately. “Oh...you’d know better than me I guess...”

Agatha takes a long sip of her drink in lieu of words. My pint of Guinness arrives on time. I take two big gulps, reveling in the distracting burn. I try to look literally anywhere else. There’s a neon purple flower on the wall. I see three people dancing together, smiling and laughing. I’m not usually a fan of dancing but they look like they’re having fun. I spot on a presumed couple sipping on the same fancy cocktail together. My eyes flick to Agatha. She’s staring straight ahead, totally uninterested in me. So y gaze keeps drifting, until it meets someone else’s. And I nearly choke on my beer.

Holy fucking shit, he’s staring at me. A gorgeous guy with reddish-gold skin, wavy black hair, and piercing grey eyes is looking right at me with a devilish smirk on his lips. He’s wearing _very_ fitting black skinny jeans and a short sleeved dark shirt. Well, technically he’s wearing a shirt, but it’s unbuttoned all the way to his navel so I don’t know if it counts. His beautiful eyes wander over me again and again, smirk slowly growing. Why is he staring at me? What the hell makes me so interesting? Is it getting hotter in here?

“Simon?”

I snapped back to reality from the deep sea grey induced daze. “What?”

Agatha’s brow is all pulled together. I can’t tell if it’s out of confusion or concern. “Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah, I-I’m fine.” I take another drink of my beer. “So, what else do you like?”

Agatha shrugs and goes back to looking at her drink. “I play lacrosse.”

“Yeah? Is that fun?”

“It is, until someone shoves you to the ground.”

I let out a small laugh. Agatha does the same, but quickly goes back to stirring her drink with a neutral expression. “What do you do? For fun, that is.”

“Um, some stuff...” I scratch my chin. This is harder than I thought. “I like gaming, fencing, baking, watching Dr. Who. That’s pretty much it.”

“Baking sounds fun.”

“Yeah it is!” I turn towards her with the brightest grin. “I’m learning this new technique for making scones. It makes a much lighter pastry, but it’s hard to get the same flavour, y’know? I’m trying to figure out how to compensate for that. I’ve been trying fresh ingredients, pure oils, lots of stuff. But really-”

I stop when I realise Agatha is looking at me with utter confusion. Right, not everyone understands baking science, or wants to know. I turn away from her and drink down the rest of my beer. It won’t help though. First year uni gave me quite a tolerance. I stare at the empty glass, swishing around the last bits of foam.

“So, how’s school going?” That’s a safe question, right?

“Oh it’s going fine.” Agatha replies. “There’s actually this one class I’m taking.”

She starts talking about her animal biology class. I try to listen, I really do, but my attention span is notoriously short. My eyes drift, and soon fall on raven hair.

The man isn’t staring at me anymore. He’s looking off to the side. I tilt my head slightly to the side. He’s talking to someone, a red haired man with a sly smile. They’re giggling and whispering together. My stomach feels weird. Must’ve had something bad for lunch. My eyes drag over him more carefully this time. He’s quite thin. Wait, no, not thin, lean. There’s strong muscles in his calves and upper arms, and his stomach looks very tight. I wonder how he got those. Football maybe? I could see that. Him running across the field at lightspeed, stealing the ball easily with his strong legs, flying across the field with ruthless grace. Part of me just really wants to see how he moves.

My eyes move back, only to meet Gorgeous Guy’s. Oh fuck, he’s looking right at me again. I can feel myself blush as I go rigid. His mouth pulls into that smirk again. It fits too perfectly on his sharp face, like he was designed to look so cocky and beautiful at the same time. My face feels so fucking hot right now. Damn clubs, no air conditioning.

“And that’s why you have to be very careful when treating young horses.” I refocus back on Agatha’s voice. She’s looking at me, gesturing with one and stirring the margarita with the other. I nod thoughtfully like I’m not an arsehole and I’ve been paying attention this whole time.

“That’s really cool, yeah,” I say. “You’re really into this stuff.”

“Of course, it’s my future career.”

My cheeks go redder. Between Agatha and Gorgeous Guy, I’m pretty much a tomato by now. “R-Right, course.”

We stare at each other. The awkwardness is so thick you could slice it in half. God, why am I so much worse at this than normal? My normal is pretty shit so that’s a real feat. There’s no flow or spark. I don’t think this is working at all. But I don’t know how to leave without being a total dickhead. What could I even say? _“Sorry but I don’t find you interesting enough to keep talking to you, I have to go.”_ ’ Instead I’m silent as a statue and more awkward than a fourteen year old at a school dance.

Agatha is drinking down the last of her margherita. I look pointedly away from her. And my eyes happen drift back to the guy. He’s still with the ginger bloke. It’s hard to tell if they’re talking or dancing. Maybe it’s both. Gorgeous Guy's thin lips are moving slowly. His hips are swaying slightly, the curves of his body showing well through the tight jeans. I’m _fixated_ by the way he moves. It’s seamless and graceful yet so strong. He looks good dancing, even just a little. I wonder how he’d look if he was truly moving to the beat, swaying his lean body with purpose. He’s not looking at me this time. I kinda wish he would, honestly.

“I’m going to the toilet,” Agatha announces. She’s out of her seat and walking away before I can get a word out. Alright then.

I look at my glass, rolling the remaining foam back and forth. My mind is being way too chaotic for me to think straight, so I’m trying not to think at all. I just watch the white bubbles, back and forth, back and forth, just like that guy’s hips. I wonder-

“Hello,” a smooth voice says to my right. “How are you?”

I turn my head and nearly choke on my own tongue. It’s him. Gorgeous Guy. He’s standing right there, leaning against the bar with his hip cocked out, looking at me with that smirk and dazzling eyes. And I’m completely frozen.

“H-Hi,” I finally get out. “I’m, uh, fine. H-How are you?”

“I’m alright. May I ask you something?”

“Um, sure.”

“Are you on a date with the woman who just left?”

I scratch at my wrist, looking to the side in the vain hope he doesn’t see my blush. “Uh, sort of, I guess.”

The guy raises an eyebrow without moving any other part of his face. It’s very impressive. “Usually that’s a yes or no question.”

“Yeah, I know,” I chuckle awkwardly. “We’re supposed to be on a blind date, but I don’t think it’s going well.”

“Hm, yes, I assumed that when you kept staring at me over her shoulder.”

As if I wasn’t a tomato face before. I think my flush has reached the bottom of my neck. My mouth opens and closes like a stranded fish. His smirk only becomes more smug, and I find it so annoyingly attractive.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I’m sorry, that was rude a-and objectifying and I-”

“Did I say I disliked it? Remember, I made eyes at you first.” All the blood in my body rushes straight to my face. Gorgeous Guy leans closer. His long fingertips are nearly touching mine. “My name is Baz. What’s yours?”

“Simon.”

“Simon,” he echoes in his much, _much_ sexier voice. “That’s a very pretty name.”

“T-Thanks. Your name is nice too.”

“Thank you.” Baz’s head tilts further to the side, showing off his long, graceful neck. “So, if your date is not going well, would you mind if I wanted to whisk you away from here?”

My eyes go wide and my heart starts beating double time. I’m not sure if it’s from the fear or the thrill of the idea. Do I really want that? When I look at Baz, all of him, I do. But could I do that to Agatha? Just because I’m not attracted to her doesn’t mean I should ditch her.

“Um, I-I do,” I say, “but I gotta go do something first. Wait here, please? I promise I’ll be back in a minute.”

Baz blinks rapidly. He looks like a very confused deer in the headlights.“Alright...”

With only a little fear, I reach forward and put my hand over his. He inhales sharply, and I swear, even in the lowlight, I see a blush on his face. “I just need to tell her I’m cutting the date short. I don’t wanna be a total arsehole. One minute and I’m all yours, I promise.”

That smirk comes back, but there’s something softer in his eyes. Less dagger like, more a pretty cloud on an overcast day. “Alright. One minute, I’ll hold you to that.”

I grin brightly. “Awesome.”

I squeeze his hand, and surprisingly, he squeezes back. I take one last look at him before dashing off like a madman.

I’m very lucky that in a dark club like this, the toilet signs have to be very bright to see. The woman’s toilet is on the far left of the upper deck. Not too far, but there’s a crowd of people between me and my destination. I push through the other night club goers, some wobbling, most swearing at me. Unfortunately I can’t explain to them that I need to tell my blind date that our date has to end so I can go hang out with an incredibly handsome man who for some reason is attracted to me. I’m not sure I could explain this to anyone and sound sane. I don’t care. Baz is waiting for me back at the bar. I’ll push through every one of these people to get back to him.

When I reach the toilet, I immediately spot a pink dress near the wall. Agatha is bent over her phone, blue light illuminating her pensive face. She’s typing really fast. I speed walk like a bloody madman.

“Agatha!” I call out. Her head snaps up.

“Oh, Simon,” she says, sounding far more shocked than I thought she would be.

“Hey, hey, sorry for barging up. Just, uh, we need to talk.”

“Okay...”

I scratch the back of my neck like some awkward teenager. “Um, look, I’m sorry I’m being an arsehole. You’re nice and very pretty, but I don’t think this date is working out. We’re just not...clicking, I guess. Which sucks but it’s alright. I-I just hope we can still be friends...”

Agatha blinks a few times at me. I wait for her to storm off or yell or something. Instead, she just smiles softly and nods. “Alright, yeah. I agree. I don’t think we’re a good fit as a couple.”

All of the tension drains from my body. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. I think you’re nice too, but it’s not going to work out. Maybe friends could better.”

“Yeah, yeah definitely. Wanna get coffee sometime? As friends?”

“I’d like that.” Her phone buzzes. She looks down and sighs. “I have to go. My friend Minty is here to pick me up.”

“Oh, okay.” The gears start turning in my head, and my eyebrows pull together. “Wait, were you just going to leave?”

Agatha looks down, probably to hide the embarrassed expression on her face. “Honestly, yeah. I didn’t want to make things awkward. I’m not good at saying goodbye to people...”

I’ll admit, it hurts a bit. But I also get it. I hated saying anything as a kid, especially something awkward. And I don’t think it’s my place to berate her right now. I nod slowly. “Alright. Well, hope you have a good rest of your night.”

“You too.” She goes towards the stairs. One step down though, she looks over her shoulder with a little smile on her lips. “Have fun with that bloke. He looks cute.”

Before I can answer, she’s off down the staircase. My face is going to get stuck blushing this much. After only a moment of shock though, I dash back in the direction of the bar. I’ve never been more nervous than I have been speed walking back there. But when I see Baz, with his hips against the bar, fiddling with his phone, I sigh in utter relief.

I take a deep breath, trying to hide just how out of breath and eager I am. Be cool, Simon, be cool. I walk towards with what I hope is a badass swaggering walk. Bloody hell, I hope I don’t look stupid. I really hope I don’t fuck this up.

“Hey,” I say, “I’m back.”

Baz’s head snaps up. I like the way his hair falls in a lazy wave, like a waterfall made from raven wings. (That poetry book Penny got me for Christmas has really expanded my metaphors, wow.) That softer, nicer smirk comes back. I love it more than the arrogant one, actually.

“One minute and thirty eight seconds,” he replies in a playful tone. “You’re late.”

I chuckle and rub my neck. “Sorry. There’s a lot of people here.”

“I’m aware. I’ve been looking through them all night.” His fingertips touch mine, sending jolts up my entire arm. “Until you caught my eye like no else did.”

“Really?” My heart rate is going nuts. It's not arrogant, well, not totally. Everyone's a little vain, after all.

“Mhm.” His hand moves slowly up my arm, stopping just above my wrist. “Blue eyes, bronze curls, tawny skin with constellations of freckles and moles. You were like the sun in this dark nightclub. How could I not be entranced?”

“O-oh.” All words have fled my tongue. Baz’s sweet voice and words have melted my brain into pure mush.

Baz’s hand moves further. His thumb traces tiny, wonderful circles on my upper forearm. He’s got these slight calluses that I can’t get enough of. “You have no idea how much I wanted to come up and talk to you right away.”

I pout slightly. “Why didn’t you?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. I like the way his hair moves. “Because you were _with_ someone, Simon. I didn’t notice her until after you started talking to her again. I wasn’t going to be that arse who stole someone’s date.”

“And yet you offered to whisk me away a few minutes ago.”

“Well,” he sighs, tracing patterns lazily on the inside of my elbow, “I tried to ignore you, I really did, but my eyes kept drifting to you. I didn’t think your date was going well but I still wasn’t going to intrude. I distracted myself instead.”

I frown deeply. “That redhead bloke.”

“Yes, Lamb. He approached me but I welcomed him.” His face becomes sly and devilish. The expression is eerily, like his face was made for scheming. “Were you jealous?”

I gulp down a large lump in my throat, unintentionally biting down on my bottom lip. From the way Baz watches my mouth I think he likes it quite a bit. “Maybe a little...”

“Mm, good to know.” Baz tilts his head, showing off that damn neck again. Is he doing that on purpose? “I’ll admit I was jealous. I desperately wished to be in your date’s place. When I glanced over a few times, I saw things may not have been going well. So when she left...”

“You jumped at the chance?”

“Precisely.”

I grin ear to ear. It’s strange to think I’d be so wanted by someone that they’d wait to talk to me, but I don’t _dislike_ it. Especially when they’re as pretty as Baz. I move forward this time, touching his forearm. His hands may be rough, but the rest of his skin is impossibly soft.

“I’m glad you did,” I say quietly. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

Baz smiles too. It’s not arrogant, but genuinely happy and bright. “Me too. I thought you were gorgeous, but now I also know that you’re the kind of guy to make sure he says goodbye to his blind date, even when it didn’t work out. Who knew the gorgeous man would turn out to be kind too?”

Once _again,_ I am lost for words. I mean, what do you say to that? Glad you noticed? Arrogant. You too? Weird. Thank you? I guess, still feels awkward. It seems me gaping mouth is good enough for Baz, because he’s still smiling. He brings up his other hand and traces his rough thumb on my chin, just under my bottom lip. Dear Lord, I really want him to move it a little bit up.

“So I’m wondering,” he drawls, “if you would be so kind as to do something for me.”

“What?” I almost say _“anything,”_ but that’s just a little too desperate.

“Would you please follow me downstairs? Because ever since I saw you, I’ve thought about how lovely you would look on the dance floor.”

Is my brain dribbling out my ears? Because it bloody well feels like it. Baz’s skin may be cold but he’s burning me to a crisp. And I really don’t mind. 

“I-I can’t dance,” I whisper. I want him to know what a mess he’s getting into when he's with me.

“No matter.” His thumb actually touches my lip. A harsh, beautiful shudder moves through my spine. “I bet you’ll still look gorgeous.” He tugs on my wrist with his other hand. “Shall we?”

All I can do is nod. Baz grins devilishly. He slowly weaves our fingers together one by one. Every touch threatens to make me burst into flames. “Then let’s go.”

Baz pulls me forward, and I happily trail behind him. We zig zag through all the sweaty people and soar down the spiral stairs. There’s some sort of techno remix of an eighties song. The singer keeps singing about a girl named Rio. (Weird name, but I don’t think I can talk much considering my last name is Snow.) Baz pulls us deep into the throng of dancing people. He finds us a small space in the middle of all of it. At first I think it’s too small, but when Baz presses almost his entire body against me, I quickly get the point. He puts his arms around my waist. I’m completely frozen.

“I still don’t know how to dance,” I shout in his ear.

Baz leans forward. His hot breath caresses my skin. “Put your arms on my shoulders, then follow me. It’s really easy. You just have to sway.”

I gulp and nod. I place my hands on his shoulders. They’re a bit boney but very nice. Baz slowly starts moving side to side. His hips move absolutely beautifully. He has perfect rhythm. He slowly sways to the thumping bass of the song while holding onto me tight, pressing us together so close. I can feel every part of him against every part of me. My eyes are glued to my hands on his shoulders. I’m pretty sure my entire fucking body is blushing now.

“You can move too,” Baz says. “Just follow me.”

I nod, even though I’m still unsure. I look down at his hips (holy fuck he’s hot) and try to copy him. Slowly, I move side to side, following him as best I can. I’m not as smooth and graceful as him of course. Baz helps, silently guiding me with his hands. We start moving in near perfect sync. And it feels absolutely amazing. Holy shit, is this grinding? I’ve never done it before, so if this is it, it’s bloody great.

My chest feels tight and breath is short, but in a good way. The fear and nerves are fading bit by bit. Slowly, I finally look away from my hand. I look at Baz’s face, and god, why haven’t I been looking at him the whole time? He looks even more gorgeous. The strobe lights perfectly illuminate the deep angles of his face. His hair falls in his face in a beautiful lazy wave. His eyes are absolutely dazzling, and they’re completely focused on me. He looks so good, somehow even better than before. My gaze flicks down to Baz’s lips. They’re hanging slightly open. The violet lights catch on them again and again. I can’t stop looking, and I don’t really want to.

I look up again, meeting Baz’s beautiful eyes. He’s looking down as well at _my_ mouth. God, I want him to be thinking the same thing I am. My arms quickly wrap around his neck, fingers pressing into his soft skin. Baz inhales sharply. For a second I worry he’s going to shove me away. But instead, I feel him pull my waist even closer, fingers digging into my back through my t-shirt. Our faces are inches apart, moving closer without us even realising it. My nose touches his, just barely. We’re breathing the same air. Maybe, just maybe.... Oh, fuck it.

I lean forward and press my mouth to Baz’s.

It takes less than a second for Baz to kiss me back. There’s zero pretense or nervousness. We move our lips fervently, mutual desire completely obvious. Baz sticks his tongue down my throat at the same time I tug harshly on his hair. Thank god the music is too loud for anyone to hear our groans. He bites down on my bottom lip and I feel like I’m fucking melting and exploding and dying. I kiss him like it’s a fight, and he doesn’t give an inch. We match so well. It’s perfect. _He’s_ perfect. God, I’m drowning in him, but I don’t want to come up for air.

Baz eventually, sadly, pulls away. He keeps his face close to mine. I study all the different colours in his eyes. I could do that forever.

“Want to get out of here?” he says. “I think I’d like to see you somewhere other than the dance floor now.”

I nod immediately. “Yeah, definitely, let’s go.”

Baz grins. It’s a mix between devilish charm and genuine giddy excitement. He grabs my hand, then we push through the throngs of people even faster than before. I can’t stop grinning for even a second.

We hop in a cab heading towards Canary Wharf. Baz takes me up to his flat, pins me down on his king sized bed, and proves once again that he is incredible with his hips. 

All in all, a fantastic night.

**Author's Note:**

> Needless to say, a spring in Baz's mattress breaks. Hope you liked it! Simon was a bit of an ass, yeah, but imo so is Agatha. In my mind they meet up later and talk properly without pressure to date awkwardness and they become really good friends. In the end they're both happy. I liked writing this because I love the prompt and I love the song. Arctic Monkeys fucking rule. Hopefully my next fic will be out soon. Have a good day!


End file.
